


Melancholy.

by deathsworn



Category: Vampire Hunter D (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Melancholy, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 20:52:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19753609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsworn/pseuds/deathsworn
Summary: Another oneshot.





	Melancholy.

He sat upon the back of his cyborg horse set in a steady troat: amalgamation of shadows as dark as the **blackest of night** entwined and moonlight's embrace, crystal clear yet, _unfathomable_ , a tandem of travelers all would avoid, if they were in much of a misfortune to find themselves threading this wasteland along them. Each crack of robotic hooves against soil as old as the rider himself set a painfully slow rhythm, which broke throughout the silence almost deafening in its nothingness. The horizon, never ending, becomes one with the sky every time the vampire hunter allows his gaze to seek it. The silence... it is an oppressive dread that bites on the back of his neck, cold sweat dripping down uncomfortably --- or perhaps intrusive bugs that cling onto every sight of flesh desperately in a fight to survive, he was not sure. How many times... how many times has he passed these vanished roads? _**Centuries**_ , same steps, same sights ; once upon a time before the fights between man and noble, he rememers the green. 

He remembers the _green_ and the _flowery_ , the green by merry river, but the green is what once was --- naught but a bittersweet memory of different ages. Now it's a heirloom of disaster, heirloom of death that ravages these now grey lands, death that consumes; radiation that has mangled all that remained, brave humans and other life forms now losing their rights to be called life forms... at least by the cruel voices of those lucky to flee. Obscured by dust storms, a burning tingle in throat that even now, the rider feels. Reminiscing upon it, as othered as he may stand, D feels a heartache awakening. Is there nothing but death in this wide world? Leather gloved hand fixes the brim of wide - black hat, worn even now in the pitchness of night. Same hand fixes the button holding his cape tightly around his neck ---- is it truly that he is unruly, or is it that looming nervousness of the surrounding that finds a way to creep into _him_ , even? A deep sigh befalls his lip. Then, a tap on his horse's neck, it stops. For the first time in several hours, the hunter's feet finally befall upon the rotten ground. A crack of _grass and dirt_ \---- he assumes, doesn't look, that it may even be chewed on **bone**. "Come," his voice breaks throughout the silence, a tone louder than he expected, and intended. His hands work on whatever little food hr has remaining in the bag carried, little carrots and hayseed. Another pat is given to his companion, this time more gentle and loving, at a point where flesh meets metal, where human meets cruelty of a noble. "Even you deserve rest, dear friend."


End file.
